Closed Doors
by lovemeimanerd
Summary: Sherlock wonders just how long, exactly, it will be before John decides to leave him.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Warning- Johnlock. Rating may or may not go up

John paced quickly through the living room, his shoulders stiff and nerves on fire. He gritted his teeth as his eyes darted over to the door.

Then he was pacing again, angry as ever.

Sherlock stepped into their flat then, his body freezing as he took in all he could gather from John. The doctor stopped his pacing and turned to stare venomously at his flat mate.

"I can explain." Sherlock said quickly as he stepped further Into the danger zone and let the door fall closed behind himself.

"Can you? Can you really, Sherlock?" John seethed, his body still as he sucked in deep, heavy breaths.

"I- yes. Although you may not appreciate the circumstances in which-"

"Bloody hell- you sodding COCK I don't give a damn about the circumstances!" John yelled, his temper flying away from him as he stormed over to Sherlock and pressed his finger accusingly into the detective's chest. "I was on a DATE, Sherlock. I specifically told you not to mess with this one- I really liked her!" John shouted as he rose up just slightly on the balls of his feet in an attempt at intimidation. It didn't work- he was still much shorter than the other man.

"Did you, though?" Sherlock asked, his eyebrows drawing in a tad dramatically.

"I-.. Of fucking course- I did. Until you scared her off, at least!" John bit back after his initial stir of bewilderment.

"Oh please, don't be so over dramatic. I didn't scare her." Sherlock droned with a roll of his eyes.

"She ran- literally RAN out of the restaurant"

"Did she, though?"

"Oh my god."

John made a move to open the door Sherlock was standing in front of but the consulting detective beat him to it and pressed his body up against the exit so John was forced to continue talking with him.

"Move, Sherlock." John warned, his hand still around the door handle as he waited for the other man to move out of his way.

"No- just listen to me. I didn't have a choice-"

"You ran up to our table covered in blood and HOLDING A SEVERED HEAD, sherlock! You were yelling at me for not answering my phone and that you needed my help and THEN- as if it hadn't been bad enough already- you threw the severed head onto her lap! There are no circumstances in which that is by any means 'okay', Sherlock!" John growled as he tried to open the door only to have Sherlock fall back into it with his full body weight.

"It was for a case, John! And I was getting tired of holding it- it's not like she had anything better to do."

"Than hold a severed head!?"

"Yes! Exactly!"

"Oh for god's sake- Sherlock, just move. I need some air before I strangle you." John breathed as he tried at the door again but to no avail.

"I'm afraid I can't let you walk out that door right now, John"

"And why the bloody hell not!?"

Sherlock pressed his lips together and stared down at John- the shorter of the two staring back up in angry confusion. "Well?" The doctor asked, about ready to shove Sherlock out of the way when finally the detective spoke up again.

"Because I'm concerned that you might not come back.."

John felt his heart drop at that and let go of the handle, his eyes softening as he looked into nervous blue.

"Sherlock-"

"We both know it's only a matter of time, John... Before you storm off and never come back.. Before you realize you don't need me anymore, or.. That you've had enough of me.." Sherlock said steadily. He had a wall up now and John found he didn't like that.

"I'm not going to leave you, Sherlock.. I just- you can be frustrating sometimes, you know.." John said in defeat as he took a step back from the door and into their living room.

Sherlock said nothing as he watched John move around the flat, his back still pressed against the door.

"You don't know that.." Sherlock pointed out.

John let out a brief huff of a laugh and slid his hands up to rest on his hips. "I'm pretty sure that's one of the only things I do know" John retorted with a turn to look at his flat mate.

Apprehensively, Sherlock stepped away from the door, half expecting John to make a break for it. When instead the doctor stayed right where he was, eyes still stuck wondrously on Sherlock, he felt himself relax just a little.

"I'm sorry... For ruining your date.. Won't happen again" Sherlock said stiffly, the words having to be forced from his mouth.

"Don't be- it was doomed to fall apart sooner or later, anyway." John shrugged, his weight now leaning slightly against the side of his arm chair.

Sherlock smiled at that and took a few steps closer to the doctor. "Seems to be the pattern with your girlfriends, yes.." He said, his voice it's usual low baritone as he stepped just slightly closer to the doctor.

"Watch it- I'm still bloody pissed at you for earlier." John warned with a push off from his arm chair. "Now, if you don't mind- I, will be putting my feet up and watching some crap Telly for the rest of the evening." John declared with a stretch of his back.

The day had been exhausting, after all.

"Of course" Sherlock said softly, his head turning just slightly around to peer at the closed doorway after John had began fussing around in the kitchen.

He wondered idly just how long it would be, exactly, before John realized that he was wrong.. Before he truly decided enough was enough and moved on with his life...

Author's Note: Reviews are appreciated!


	2. Chapter 2

"You do realize there are these things called protective eyewear, right?" John asked as he leaned over the detective, his right hand cupping Sherlock's jaw while the other pressed a damp cloth gently into the fragile skin surrounding Sherlock's closed eyes.

Sherlock peered up at the doctor with one of his eyes- the one John had already cleaned the chemicals out of. "I am aware." The detective stated defensively. "There wasn't enough time to grab a pair- the test subject incubated a lot sooner than I had predicted. I had to act fast."

"Yes- so fast you tripped over yourself and splashed hazardous chemicals- that are probably illegal to have in the first place- all over your face." John murmured idly as he flipped the cloth in his gloved hand.

Instinctively, Sherlock glanced with his open eye over to the closed door of their flat and back up at the doctor. The action was subtle but still, John caught it.

"You keep doing that- stop it.. I'm not going anywhere..." John breathed with a step back from his handy work.

Apprehensively, Sherlock opened his other eye, pleased to find it didn't accompany blindness or even a mild burning sensation. "Are you sure you don't want a roommate with normal hobbies like- shopping, or- going to the spa?" Sherlock droned with an eye roll.

"Not.. Unless I were a teenage girl, no" John said back with a quirked eyebrow as he tossed the cloth onto the table. He then proceeded to pull off his medical gloves, his lips pursing as he did so.

Sherlock said nothing back and instead moved over to start working at his experiments again- oblivious to John's silent stares as his project once again consumed him.

"Sherlock.."

"Hmm?" Sherlock acknowledged, his focus still mainly on his experiment.

"Why, exactly, are you afraid I'm going to leave you?" John asked, his left hand coming up to help support his head as he leaned over the table. He was preparing himself for a long, serious, conversation.

Sherlock froze in his movements before pulling back from his microscope and turning to meet John's gaze. "Don't be an idiot- we both know our relationship is a time bomb. One of these days it'll explode. It's a fact." Sherlock sneered. He almost looked to be offended by the question as he turned back to his work- silently deeming their conversation over.

"So you've said, but- I don't see it as such." John piped it, seemingly incapable of acknowledging the fact that Sherlock had already ended their conversation.

With an eye roll, Sherlock fell back against his chair and crossed his arms childishly over his chest.

"Just because you can't see it doesn't mean it's not there." Sherlock gritted out, his eyebrows drawing in when John opened his mouth to carry on their conversation.

"Again, you keep saying that but you've only started doing this recently- it doesn't make sense." John breathed with a broken laugh as he stared back at the frustrated detective.

Sherlock peered at the doctor with blue eyes for a long while as John stared back with a bit lip and raised eyebrows. They both seemed to be waiting on the other.

"Forget it." Sherlock bit out as he stood abruptly from the table and stormed off to his room.

"Forget? Forget what?" John called back in confusion as he followed Sherlock with his eyes.

"Just shut up." Sherlock growled before slamming his bedroom door behind himself.

"What- Sherlock?" John asked wearily as he forced himself to stand and walk cautiously over to Sherlock's door. He knocked his fist lightly against the door and asked, "Sherlock?"

"Go away." Sherlock replied, his voice muffled by something other than the door.

With a sigh, John turned the door knob and walked into the dark room. "Sherlock, come on.. Just talk to me about this- it's clearly bothering you a lot more than you've been letting on" John said in a quiet voice to the bundle of detective and blankets resting atop Sherlock's bed.

"I told you to go away."

"And I told you to talk about it." John retorted as he took a seat on the edge of Sherlock's bed.

"You're an idiot.."

"Yes, so you've said" John breathed.

The doctor watched idly as Sherlock poked his head out from under the covers and looked up at him. "You're an idiot." The detective repeated.

"Are you just going to keep repeating that until I leave, or..?" John asked with a raised brow as he leaned back on his arms to show he wasn't planning to leave any time soon.

With an exasperated sigh, Sherlock sat up and let the blanket fall off of his shoulders. "John.. I have something I need to tell you.. And... I understand.. Should you choose to leave.." Sherlock said quietly, his back straight despite the way his eyes stuck to the lower half of the door like glue.

"Sherlock.. You can tell me anything." John assured and not for the first time.

Sherlock glanced uncomfortably to John and quickly darted his eyes back to the door. "For a while now, I.." He stopped then, and narrowed his eyes. "Have had... Feelings.." He said stiffly as though the word pained him.

"Discovered you're a real boy, huh?" John asked, the slightest smile sliding across his lips when Sherlock shot him a glare.

When Sherlock's glare stayed in place, John quickly found his smile faltering. "Sherlock..?" He asked as he watched Sherlock watch him unblinkingly. "What is it?" He asked, fairly certain his little jab hadn't brought on such a reaction from the other man.

Scoffing, Sherlock rolled his eyes and let in a shaky breath. "You're an idiot."

"You might have mentioned that-"

John felt his words catch in his throat as cool, slender fingers wrapped around the sides if his face and pulled him in for a clash of lips with the detective.

Sherlock pressed his mouth firmly against John's and exhaled shakily as he backed away, his hands retreating with him as he gave the doctor some space.

However, John said nothing as he stared back at Sherlock, his eyes wide with a hint of confusion as he stared into nervous blue.

With a bite if his lip, Sherlock let out another breath a walked out of his room- a stunned John still left upon his bed.

It wasn't until John heard the door to the flat slam that he blinked back to reality, his lips still stinging from the quick release of pressure.

Then the doctor was looking out the doorway of Sherlock's bedroom where the detective had exited through and he sighed.

"I really am an idiot.."

Author's Note: Reviews are appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until much later that evening that Sherlock returned to their flat- his steps quiet as he walked up the stairs.

Slowly, he opened the door and stepped inside, half expecting all of John's things to have been taken out despite logically knowing otherwise. There was no sign of any movers having come by throughout his absence.

Instead, however, he found one John Watson fast asleep in his armchair- the light still on beside him.

He wanted to talk, Sherlock discovered- that of which gave him mixed, uneasy, emotions.

Cautiously, Sherlock closed the door behind himself and walked over to the sleeping doctor.

The man was shaking- beads of sweat pooling on his forehead as his breathing carried on much too rapidly to be by any means normal. Nightmares again..

With a soft sigh, Sherlock removed his coat and placed it gently over the doctor. The detective watched analytically as John's breathing steadied along with the small, rapid movements of his body.

Sherlock stood there for a moment more before deciding to give the sleeping man some privacy and walked away. He winced at his own inattentiveness when the floorboards creaked beneath his feet.

"Sherlock?" John asked tiredly as he made a move to sit up straight. "You're back.." He pointed out with a yawn and rub of his eyes, only then noticing the coat as it pooled in his lap.

"Listen, John.." Sherlock said hesitantly as he looked down to the right of John's tired form. "I know.. That I've made you.. Uncomfortable... With earlier.. But I assure you I can contain myself- should you decide to stay..."

Sherlock glanced over to read John's expression, momentarily confused when he found the doctor frowning up at him.

"It doesn't bother me, Sherlock- and I'm not going anywhere." John said steadily with a sharp raise of his eyebrows.

"You're not.. Bothered..?" The detective asked warily, his eyes narrowed as he tried to read the other man.

"Okay- sit down." John huffed with a head nod in the direction of the seat across from him.

Unsure of what else to do, Sherlock did just that, his posture straight and uncomfortable in his seat.

"Alright, now listen. And if you feel the need to- deduce me, because this is the truth." John said tiredly, his hand moving out in front of him as he spoke. "I.. Don't know how comfortable I would be moving on sexually- but you.. Are my best friend. And I would spend the rest of my life with you if I could... Believe me, I mean it. You are an incredible man and I'll give you all that I can- and.. I'm willing... To at least try something between us.. If it works- great, if not... Then fine, but either way I am not going anywhere, Sherlock." John promised, his eyes set on Sherlock's calculating ones.

"I.." Sherlock began to say, his eyes wide as he discovered John was completely serious.

John waited patiently for Sherlock to respond but after a few moments he began to wonder if Sherlock had lost himself in that mind palace of his.

"You're gonna have to get back to me in the morning, Sherlock, I'm exhausted." John decided with a heavy breath as he rose to stand.

Sherlock snapped back to reality and watched this, his mouth still slightly agape from his speechlessness.

"Goodnight, Sherlock." John said over his shoulder as he walked out the door.

Sherlock listened as the man stepped up the stairs to his separate room, his heart beating heavily in his chest as he realized John truly wasn't going anywhere.

"Goodnight, John.."

Author's note: It'll only get more Johnlock-y from here out! Reviews are appreciated!:


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Just a quick thank you for all the lovely reviews! You guys are amazing!

John awoke late the next morning, his bones and muscles achy from having spent so much time in his arm chair the night prior. With slow and steady steps, he walked down the stairs and into the main section of his and Sherlock's flat.

The second he entered, however, he noticed the piercing blue eyes that landed on him from across the room. "Sleep much?" The doctor asked, frowning when he realized Sherlock hadn't appeared to have moved at all in the last eight hours or so.

"I accept." Was all the detective said, his hands resting under his chin as he followed the sluggish man with his eyes.

"Hmm?" John asked, stopping in his movements. He looked around himself then as though he might find whatever it was he had clearly missed? "What? Accept.. What, exactly?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and stood up from his chair- his motions swift and fluid despite his lack of sleep. "Your offer- last night. I accept." He explained with several steps closer to the doctor.

"Oh.." John said quickly, his mouth holding the word for a few moments more as he watched Sherlock approach. "Right, well.. Good, that's... That's good. We're umm... Were good, then.." John added hesitantly, his chin having to tilt up as Sherlock peered down at him.

"Yes.. Very." Sherlock said sharply, his gaze analyzing John's reaction to their close proximity.

John nodded a couple of times before clearing his throat and stepping away from the detective. "Right, umm.. Have you looked through your potential cases yet?" John asked as he worked his way in and around the kitchen, careful to avoid any and all of the experiments Sherlock had left laying around.

"Dull." The detective droned as he followed John into the kitchen and leaned against one of the counters.

John spared Sherlock just a glance as he started working on his morning cuppa. "Will you be catching some shut eye, then?" He asked, his mind clearly more focused on the kettle.

"Boring."

John turned at this, his eyes looking wearily up at his.. Whatever the hell they were now. "Then what is it you have planned for today, exactly? And please don't tell me it involves another attempt at blinding yourself."

Sherlock twisted his face at John's little jab and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "Oh, please- it was a small miscalculation."

"Pretty big price to pay for a 'small miscalculation'" John muttered under his breath as he removed the kettle from the stove.

Despite the small voice Sherlock caught the words and twitched briefly at the insult. For a second he opened his mouth to defend himself before falling back and thinking better of it. "John.." He said instead, the word a bit hesitant.

John noticed this and stopped his moving around to look across the kitchen at the detective. "Yes? What is it, Sherlock?" He asked, somewhat concerned that there would be assassins under the floor boards or Moriarty in the stair well.

"Last night.. I thought a lot about what us being together.. Would.. Mean, exactly..." Sherlock said and John felt himself relax if only slightly.

"Right.." John breathed as he set the kettle down and turned to face Sherlock. "What did you have in mind, then?"

Sherlock looked to the floor for a second before taking a deep breath and looking up to meet John's eyes. "I don't like it when you go out on dates."

"I don't like it when you leave heads in the fridge."

"John-"

"Yes, yes, alright, I get it. No more dates." John huffed with several short motions of his open hands as if to say he both understood and was surrendering.

"..I don't want you touching.. Others..." Sherlock said with a nervous, calculating gaze toward John.

John sucked in a shaky breath and let it out with a few nods and a rub at his forehead. "I-.. Alright... Yes, I can agree to that.. But Sherlock, I'm not sure I can-"

"I want to be able to touch you."

"Yes, that- that's where this gets.." John felt his nerves spike and rubbed harder into his skin. "..complicated..." He finishes with an almost painful glance up at Sherlock. He's not sure how the detective will take this.

Sherlock stares back unreadably and John deflates. "Look- Sherlock, I'm not gay, alright? A cock up my ass isn't exactly my idea of a good time." The doctor tries to explain.

Sherlock blinks and leans back a bit further- his hands falling down to rest over the counter ledge. "And yet you claim to want to spend the rest of your life with me?"

John thinks this over for only a second before nodding. "Yes."

"You want to stop having sex so that you can spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Yes."

"A sociopath who keeps heads in the fridge and toes in the microwave?"

"Yes.", John says with a cheeky smile.

"Who solves murders because it's fun and know's nothing of the solar system?"

"A million times, yes, Sherlock! Yes, if I can- the rest of my life with you, always." John says with a laugh, his smile only broadening when Sherlock's own lips start to twitch upward.

"The same-" Sherlock mumbles quickly. "For me.. It's the same..." He adds.

John watches Sherlock as the man looks down a bit uncomfortably as if afraid of his own confession. Smiling, John moves away from the counter and over to the detective. "Alright, let's try this, come on." John says as he stands before Sherlock. He looks defensive, as though he's preparing to be punched.

"What?" Sherlock asks. He's been thrown off by the doctor, something he found John seemed to be able to do rather frequently. It was one of the many ways their relationship managed to stay interesting.

"Kiss me- come on. How do I do this? Do I just- just go for it?" John says quickly as he rolls back and forth a bit on his feet. His hands come out to extend toward Sherlock but make no real move to grab at the other man.

Sherlock laughs at that, the noise low in his throat as he looks over the shorter man with softened eyes. "John, you don't have to-"

"Sherlock- shut up and just do it."

Slowly, Sherlock reaches down and wraps his arms around the shorter man's torso, his head coming down to rest lightly on John's shoulder. "Is this alright..?" He asks into the material of John's jumper.

For a moment the doctor is taken aback by the motion before he catches on and gives a quick laugh of his own. "You're an idiot.." John mumbles back as he copies the motion.

Sherlock doesn't say anything more as he closes his eyes and loses himself in the feel and scent of the doctor. He can easily hear John's quickened heart beat and he has no doubt John can hear the detective's.

"I'm not going to ask you for kisses or sex, John..." Sherlock says quietly. "So long as I can touch you like this.."

John breathes shakily against Sherlock's shoulder and nods his understanding to that. "I don't have a problem with this.." He confesses, the warmth and steady drumming of Sherlock's heart seemingly lulling him back to sleep. "Definitely not a problem.." He adds with a slow roll of his head so that his cheek is pressed up against Sherlock's curls.

Sherlock smiles at this and silently hopes John would let him hold him like that forever. It was peaceful, he found, just as he always imagined it would be- with only John's steady breathing against his neck to think about.

Author's Note: Reviews are appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Thanks so much for all of the reviews/favs/follows you guys! Here's the next chapter, hope you all enjoy it:

It's dusk as Sherlock bends down beside the body. Murder. His favorite.

The consulting detective grins as he gathers the clues. It was a man- short. 5ft. 2in.. Dark skin. Short beard. Early thirties. Obvious so far- the witness could confirm all of this.

With a smile, Sherlock rises to his full height- his deductions on the tip of his tongue only to fall flat when he realizes his favorite audience had left the room at some point. "Where's John?" Sherlock asks, his eyebrows drawn in as he twirls around the room in search for his blogger.

"Comforting the witness." Lestrade says, his arms crossed as he stares expectantly at the consulting detective. "Well?" He prompts, his frustration with the man already having reached it's limit a while ago after another deduction about his cheating wife.

"No- John. I need John." Sherlock decided while walking past the Scotland Yard detective and away from the crime scene.

"Wha-!? Sherlock!? What did you find!?" Greg asks as he follows Sherlock out of the room. He's helpless in this case without the consultant and he knows it.

With a long stride, Sherlock walks out of the house- the flashing lights of police cars obnoxiously bright outside the apartment.

Off to the side he finds who he's looking for- John, who had apparently left with the dead man's wife while Sherlock was caught up in the case. The doctor has his arms around the woman as he comforts her- the good man that he is.

"Sherlo-!" Greg continues to shout.

"It was the banker. They were in on a robbery together a short while ago but there was a complication- your men were on to them. Someone needed to take the fall and when there was an argument as to who.. Well, you can gather that much, can't you?"

Lestrade gives a blank stare before twisting in his features. "Banker? What banker?"

"Jones. Trevor. His card is in the top drawer of the victim's dresser- the bank being one he obviously doesn't use. The case isn't complete yet, though, do give me an hour to find the third one." Is all Sherlock says before walking away from the officer and over to his doctor. "John. We have ourselves a case." Sherlock says with a tight smile as the witness glances up at him with teary eyes.

"Oh god.." Is all she cried before burying her head back in John's shoulder.

"Timing.." John breathes with a glare at the detective.

"Right. Should I wait till after your quick shag, then?" Sherlock asks, his tone indifferent.

"Sherlock!" John yells, his arms dropping from around the widow as he jumps back only to find she had no intention of letting go.

"You obviously find her attractive and she's been trying to get you to make a move for a while now if her frustration is anything to go by. Do make it quick, we have a college to stop by." Sherlock rambles with a quick gesture to the comfort seeking witness he had no use for.

"What are you-!?" John blanches with another step back, this time holding the widow by her arms as he successfully pulls himself free. "I'm not-" he stops and lowers his voice with a lean in toward the detective. "Shagging the witness." He finishes, his eyes trying to convey multiple messages of hurt and anger at once.

They'd been- whatever it was they are- for nearly a month now and Sherlock seemed convinced it was doomed.

"Shag her- what do I care?" Sherlock says quickly with a glance away from the doctor.

In an act of frustration, John growls and turns quickly before turning back to Sherlock. "No. Stop this. Right now. You keep trying to- set me up, or whatever this is-" he rants with a gesture around them. " and it's just not going to happen, alright? So stop it- I'm serious. I promised you, remember?"

Sherlock doesn't reply as he keeps his gaze downward in silent disbelief.

With an eye roll and a put out sigh, John turns back to the witness. "So sorry about all of this. Uhh- we've got to catch a murderer now, do take care." Is all he says to the woman before storming off ahead in what Sherlock knows is the wrong direction.

####

"Why can't you just TRUST me!?" John yells as he storms into their flat, his clothing soaked from having tackled a young lady into the river.

"John, you were clearly aroused."

"Oh my god. Oh my- which time, Sherlock? Hmm? Because apparently I'm aroused by every bloody female I set eyes on now!" John shouts while rising to the balls if his feet. Damn, he never noticed just how much he hated their height difference until now.

Sherlock bites his tongue and stares down at John, his eyes narrowing accusingly. "No?" Was his one word reply, the long pause only making it sound that much more accusatory.

John opened his mouth and leaned back, his eyes wide before blinking his disbelief away. "You really are something else, you know that?"

"You haven't bothered denying my deduction."

"Because it's-" John stops himself but both of them already know where he was going with it. It's true. He's a healthy male used to a relatively consistent sex life- it only makes sense that this dry spell would send his body on overdrive.

"True." Sherlock finished for him anyway.

John deflates at the word and falls back onto the heels of his feet, his arms dropping uselessly at his sides. "Yes.. Yes, alright, it's true. But I'm not going to act on it- I would never do that to you." John promises, his eyes straight on Sherlock's to show the detective he's got nothing to hide and is open to the younger man's deductions.

"John- what I'm asking of you.. I don't actually expect you to abide by such a request..." Sherlock tells the doctor honestly.

"I don't care- I expect myself to abide by it." John says back firmly and Sherlock holds his gaze as a warmth flutters within him.

"John, can-?" Sherlock starts to ask.

"Anything. Yes, god yes, Sherlock.. I think we both know whatever you're about to ask, my answer... It's going to be yes..." John breathes with a look away and a defeated rub to the back of his head. He felt he might as well just say it- just for the sake of saying it.. It was hardly a surprise to either of them.

Sherlock slides on a grin at John's confession and walks right up to the short doctor. "I know.. And I believe you..." He says before wrapping his arms tightly around John and resting his cheek against his blogger's head.

"Good.." John muttered into the embrace. He was confused as to where exactly Sherlock was going with this but he went with it anyway and wrapped his arms around the taller man's back. "Good..." He repeated after a beat.

"Good." Sherlock echoes back as he pulls away from John and begins to run around the apartment. "Now- more importantly. Fiona Cumberland- she has a missing brother and I'm dying to find out who killed him!" Sherlock exclaimed with a turn of John's not so secret password locked laptop in John's direction. "I say we start at the theatre- you do have an appreciation for the arts, don't you, doctor?" Sherlock asks with a devilish grin as John stares down at the lap top screen in bewilderment.

"How the hell-"

"You know my methods, John."

Author's Note: Reviews are greatly appreciated!


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